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| grunt, unity, syrupy, unless, sign us up.Image from the Internet.
The opening poem contains all the words (or variations of them) from today's Jumble.
Comments are welcomed! And couching them in Poetry is definitely NOT required.
Do not explicitly reveal any of the actual answer words until after closing time, but embedding them surreptitiously in comment sentences is encouraged.
12 comments:
Something was amiss on the starship Unity.
The planet below them was a roiling sea!
The astrogators had said it would be nice.
But it had so much liquid with no land in sight!
Well, they had come to explore, and an exo-suit
Worked in a vacuum, so should be okay in this soup.
They shuttled down, and emerged with a grunt
To slosh around in the syrupy gunk.
Now, explorers sign up in search of adventure,
But there would be no excitement on this venture.
Unless you consider the aquatic pollen a minus.
It seeped thru the suits, to give whey-fever sinus!
"The Lineup"
Unless the grunts pulled hard for morale
there'd be no unity when needed.
Not just for marching, struttin' for some gal,
but to respond to commands they heeded.
Not for some sappy or syrupy ends
but for defending the arsenal--
for protecting the home, helping friends,
& saving lives, every last pal.
~ OMK
"Great Play"
The play gave the kids an opportunity
to show off their skills in unity.
They worked to come up with a stunt
that required some chance and a grunt.
If they used a guppy or a puppy
their act might appear syrupy.
And unless they could find some neat dress,
their play might end up a mess.
In the end they decided to sign in
a director who helped them to shine
in their roles as the next of kin,
and the play ended up a win.
And so the credit they bequeath
to their director, Ol' Man Keith.
Aaw, what can I say to that? Misty, you have me blushing this bright morning as I read this in bed.
I got a kick following these kids as they prepped their play.
Now I realize that the minor questions I had ("chance and a grunt"?) must redound on me to answer!
I loved rhyming "guppy" & "puppy" with the appropriate clue word, and how slyly you slipped "sign in" to nearly the end spot foretelling "shine."
Thank you for this morning treat, my dear,
and for letting me share in the credit.
~ OMK
Thank you, thank you, Ol' Man Keith--a great relief and comfort that you were not offended to be included in my rhyme. But once I realized I had to mention a director, I couldn't stop thinking of you as the possibility and finally decided I had to mention you and your profession. Thank you for being so kind and understanding. And you deserve all the credit!
So, Owen, you remind us once again that no matter how far afield our explorers may venture, they will still have to deal with our normal human limitations.
Imagine! Stuck with a stupid *#@! sinus attack while sloshing through the seas on Planet X47.
Good thing NASA thought to stick receptacles or catheters in those suits.
Can you just imagine?: "Commander, commander! I gotta cut this million mile space trip short-- 'cuz I gotta pee!
SIR!!"
~ OMK
How to compose something with GRUNT and SYRUPY*?
Owen chose outerspace and the SYRUPY dyspepsia if not dystopia of that venue
And OMK had a similar idea to mine: The Marine Corps, Semper Fi,eh? Tote that rifle and pack; defend the country.
But I loved how Misty brought the words together and concluded with a CSO to Director Fowler.
WC
*Anybody have trouble parsing this word?
Owen, sorry your space explorers had such a miserable ending with a fever-virus!
But your verse still gives them sympathy.
Ol'Man Keith, I hope your brave grunts get rewarded for their efforts.
Both of you have hard-working fellows bravely doing their tough work today.
Wilbur, I looked up "syrupy" and it appears to mean "having the consistency or sweetness of syrup" and also "overly sentimental." I would say neither OMK's or Owen's verses were the slightest bit "syrupy" --if anything, they were probably "anti-syrupy." On the other hand, my poem's kids were saved from being syrupy only by their highly professional director.
Senior year, still young, unified in a common goal:
Make a bundle in the market whatever the toll
There was one hurdle to jump before final graduation
No diploma unless we took a class in liberal arts nation
"Aaarrrggghhh!!", we cried , "Not some Literature class"
We grunted and groaned, "Lectures pedantic and syrupy"
"Instead of an easy A, we'll be lucky if we pass"
All we want are MBAs and our destiny as a yuppy "
"But sign us up hopefully they'll be no pressure
And perhaps as an added bonus we'll have a cute professor "
(To be continued)
WC
"Sweet verse, Wilbur, but how sad that the kids don't think of "literature class" as a great treat. That's how I ended up as an English professor, by loving my literature classes. On the other hand, you must have finally gotten a cute professor, or you couldn't write such clever poetic verses this late in the game, could you? So, congratulations!
P.S. I miss Owen and Sandy. Hope they check in tomorrow.
Yes, it seems that universities are indeed more and more becoming job training institutions rather than opportunities for learning and self development.
Don't mean to be a downer here, Wilbur, but your story makes me sad.
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